


the throne and stubbornness don't really mix.

by Stabbsworth



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Death, Gen, Maxwell Dies, probably canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 20:11:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20981672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stabbsworth/pseuds/Stabbsworth
Summary: your stubbornness will be your downfall, higgsbury.--a small fic detailing on wilson being excessively stubborn to the point of completing adventure mode and thus reaching the end of the line.





	the throne and stubbornness don't really mix.

Part of why he was so stubborn comes from the fact that it's satisfying to live your life where everything is trying to kill you, and use the brief memories of fighting things before to your advantage, killing the beasts before they kill you.

The other part is that he hates it when he can't do something. An insatiable need to prove himself.

It got him onto the throne, after all. And it got him killed so, so many times, but he figured out solutions, figured out what to bring through the doorway to adventure.

Maxwell had told him endless times not to go through the doors. He never listened, and, instead of being horrified at the man's appearance, as he was the first time he'd managed to get far enough, he came to welcome it. Hell, he enjoyed seeing the man angry.

A far cry from the gentlemanly sort Maxwell seemed to be.

And yet now, there's nowhere else left to run, Maxwell tells him. Even finding an oddly-placed Teleportato in the middle of nowhere just brings him back to the throne room. Attacking Maxwell does nothing but cause his weapon to be disintegrated in a flash of lightning.

So, this is it.

The end of the road.

Silently, as always, he took the Divining Rod out and placed it on the pedestal.

When Maxwell is freed from his bonds, sporting a look of joy on his face, he grins a little, the chair he was sitting on looked uncomfortable, only to gaze upon the man in horror as he screams and turns into a skeleton, which then fades into dust.

A small moment passed, and there's the thought that he might have just killed someone.

Then, shadow hands reached out, grabbing onto his ankles, then his legs, then his upper body, clawing at him as he struggled and twisted--

And then he was bound to the chair.

No matter how much he struggled, tried to get up, he'd always be clamped down to it. The one time he got up enough to try walking ended up with him being slung back and it was debatable as to whether he'd ended up giving himself a concussion or not.

He'd slammed a fist down on the armrest in frustration, huffing out a low sigh.

He didn't want to end up becoming another Maxwell. Not now, not ever.

And yet, the offer of power, the power to do whatever the hell he wanted with the world he'd been in for so long, the world that had tortured him for… a long time -- possibly years at this point -- he had the power to shape it, change it up how he wanted.

The offer of power, much like the offer of knowledge from the man he'd dethroned, the offer was so, so tempting.


End file.
